Charcoal clouds circled in the valley from high above the city’s center. A man, a little older than the both of us, stood on his doorstep in a town miles away and watched the black veil stretch from the infinite sky down to the ground below and violently swirl east to west and west to east, but always being brought back towards the center by some unseen force. The clouds moved so quickly he wasn’t sure they were moving at all.
Squinting his eyes, he witnessed the clouds pass over far away buildings, and when they had moved on, there was no sight of the previously familiar buildings. No steeples, no towers blocking his view through the valley now.
Soon his neighbors appeared their doorsteps and told the man that the black clouds were headed towards their own town. The man surveyed the distance as if to learn the clouds intentions, in awe as the midnight fogs passed over each town between his and the city. His mind froze in an honest attempt to learn if the clouds were a real threat.
When the blackness had reached just one town away, the man's neighbors disappeared beyond their doorsteps and they whispered cries to the man that he should do the same.
When everyone was gone, the man turned to enter his home, a house built for this moment, built mostly below ground. But in his absence of mind, he did not have his key. Feeling the lining of his pockets, nothing was present. Nor anywhere on the nearby ground. His closest neighbor, observing his struggle, appeared with the man's spare key.
But it was too late. The darkest cloud gathered all around, above and seemingly even below them. The two men could do nothing except fall to the ground, unable to see each other. Unbearably tight, they clinched their eyelids so as not to see the darkness, and with their arms, they grasped for each other hoping not to feel the passing of the winds. One strong gust brought complete silence. Shaking, the man felt a light tap on his shoulder, and releasing his eyelids, he found that the storm had withdrawn from the town. Light appeared more quickly than the darkness, and each of the homes there before, still remained.
The man’s hair stood on its roots and the wind had untied his boots. He envisioned that all he owned could have just been lost. The man fumbled his key out of his neighbor's hand. Unlocking his cellar door, he took the ladder down into the hollow room below the earth. With unsteady hands, he closed the latch behind himself, bidding his dear neighbor farewell.
The rest of the town poured out onto the streets. Young and old, rich and poor, bakers and businessmen, all rejoiced that they had been spared. The mayor declared a three-day holiday for each citizen to celebrate the passing by of the clouds. Under clear air and open doors, they danced and feasted for hours. But the man with the basement did not attend. He remained inside, afraid of what weather might arrive out there, fearful that the wind might eventually return for whom it was searching.
Above his head, he heard celebratory footsteps as his walls vibrated with energy. He wondered how they could so easily forget about the storm.
A knock at his door revealed his own dear neighbor holding a plate of the most enticing foods the man had ever seen. His neighbor passed them through the door along with a smile.
"Come out and join us," the neighbor said.
"You should come inside," the man replied. "Have you not seen how we could be dead?"
His neighbor looked gently into his eyes and replied with much empathy, "But we are not. The clouds have given us reason to live.”